


Afternoon Delight

by NotPersephone



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bedannibal in Florence, F/M, Feelings, Sexy Times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:39:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25715191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotPersephone/pseuds/NotPersephone
Summary: “I suspected the event might be tiresome,” he says, his tone as casual as his stance, as if it were perfectly normal for him to stroll around undressed at this hour. “Perhaps we can find some way to save the rest of your day."Bedelia returns home after a tiresome lunch and Hannibal is ready to make it up to her.
Relationships: Bedelia Du Maurier/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 12
Kudos: 40
Collections: electric-couple prompts





	Afternoon Delight

The muscles around her ankle give a faint twitch as she takes the first step of the stairs. Nothing more than tightness from a near twist, she reminds herself as she recalls avoiding slipping on the uneven cobblestones of the piazza at the very last second. An apt reflection of her strained mind, Bedelia concludes as she carries on climbing the length of the stairs.

As much as she undeniably enjoys parading under false names in plain sight of the numerous galas they have attended, she did not expect that her newfound marital status would demand her to “perform” other duties. Especially one as tedious as a luncheon with the wives of the faculty members, a concept as pointless as it is outdated. Hannibal ensured her that she could deny the invitation, yet as she is the one who has always insisted on keeping their appearances, it felt hypocritical to do so. It was just one meal after all. But a few minutes in the company of the loud, both in speech and appearance, socialites of Florence made her instantly regret her follow through. The hour seemed endless and even the excellent quality of food did not make the meeting any less mind-numbing. Bedelia watched the minutes pass slowly, longing for the quiet respite of their apartment and Hannibal’s company, a sensation she has never anticipated experiencing.

The metal doorknob is cold against the skin of her hand, a welcomed contrast to the heat of the sun-drenched city. As is the apartment; Bedelia enters the now familiar space, once again grateful for the surprisingly cool interior.

“Hannibal?” she calls out, rather quietly, his real name feeling strange on her lips after an afternoon of hearing praises for “Doctor Fell”. But she knows he would hear her, nonetheless. If he were in the apartment, that is.

Her call is met with silence, but she can still discern his scent lingering in the air, meaning he has been here recently. It no longer startles her, how heightened her senses have become since her arrival in Europe. Since she started to share her life with Hannibal, as if he let her see more than just himself. Placing her handbag on the chair next to the door, she exhales slowly, the sound echoing in the empty space. She waits for a few more seconds for a response that does not come; he must have used her absence to attend to his work at the museum. No matter, she tells herself, stifling an upsurge of unusual disconcert.

Accompanied by the clink of her heels, she makes her way to the bedroom. The room is as still as the rest of the apartment, except for a breeze finding its route through a half open window, adding to the coolness of the space. She stands in the middle of the room, taking in the strangely comforting view of their shared bed, and ponders how to occupy the rest of her afternoon. She can always finish her reading, she reasons, taking off her shoes, the faint scratch of irritation still chipping at the back of her mind. The resentment of being alone is peculiar, solitude was something she used to value the most.

But she does not need to dwell on it any longer as the issue resolves itself.

“Was your lunch enjoyable?” the voice comes as though out of thin air, a phantom presence lingering in the walls of the apartment, but Bedelia knows its owner has materialised alongside it.

“I would not call it that,” she replies in all honesty, enjoying shedding her pretence together with her stilettos, “Quite the contrary.” Her toe tips the shoe to fall on its side, marking her displeasure.

“I am sorry to hear that,” Hannibal speaks again, the voice now closer, making it clear that he has soundlessly slipped into the bedroom after her.

Bedelia presses her lips into a thin line, her ongoing annoyance pressing her to question the sincerity of his words. She finally turns to face him, wanting to see his supposed regret and match it with her aggravation.

“Well, I hope your afternoon was-” the sharp words dissolve on her tongue, but her mouth remains parted in silent shock.

Her eyes fall on Hannibal standing in the doorway, completely naked with two glasses of wine in his hand.

“I suspected the event might be tiresome,” he says, his tone as casual as his stance, as if it were perfectly normal for him to stroll around undressed at this hour. “Perhaps we can find some way to save the rest of your day,” his hip prods to the side rather seductively as he takes a slow step forward.

Bedelia’s open lips twist into a smile of their own accord, her mind still in daze at the unexpected emergence. 

“I suspect the wine selection left a lot to be desired,” he walks towards her and offers her one of the glasses, as if that were the one thing that needed clarification, leaving his lack of attire unmentioned.

“It was acceptable,” Bedelia replies, taking the drink from his hand while her eyes continue to wander up and down his body. She moves to sits on the bed, giving herself a better viewpoint.

Hannibal takes another slow step, leaning on the side of her vanity, an apt background for his display. He sips his wine, smiling at Bedelia in between, brazen in his look, giving her time to take in view he knows she appreciates.

And she does. Her gaze meanders as she allows herself to savour the sight in all its allure. Hannibal has been enjoying the Tuscan sun as much as she has and their weekend trips left his skin beautifully sun-kissed, the muscles of his body countered in warmth brown. She glances at the ever-tempting line of his shoulders, down his chest and stomach, following the purposeful trail of hair leading beneath his hip bones. A different kind of heat rises within her, her body growing pleasantly tense as her mind focuses solely on the man in front of her. Her tongue darts out and she licks her lips, making Hannibal’s smile widen in an instant. 

She raises the glass to her lips, enjoying the heady notes of the wine, making her mind even lighter, while her other hand absentmindedly reaches down to touch her ankle. The meaning of the gesture is not lost on Hannibal; he moves at once, abandoning his posing together with his glass of wine, and perches on the bed, right next to her. Bedelia watches with a smile as he leans forward, takes her feet in his hand, and brings them up to rest on his naked lap. She expects him to make a comment about her disregarding his concern with her shoe choice, but he does not.

“I see it was a _straining_ affair,” he says instead, his smile twisting into a cheeky grin.

A shadow of a frown settles on Bedelia’s brow, but he placates her in a heartbeat with his fingers pressing gently to undo the tangled muscles. She sighs instead, allowing him to carry on with his ministrations while she samples the wine. Soon, her feet feels as weightless as her mind.

“Is that better?” Hannibal asks as his fingertips offer soft finishing touches.

“Yes, thank you,” she hums in delight, her light-headedness only adding to her increasing want. Her now nimble foot begins to stroke the inside of his thigh and she watches with satisfaction as his prick stirs, ready for her attention, a matching surge of lust colouring Hannibal’s gaze.

Smirking, Bedelia continues to marvel at this surprising reception in all its reveal; she had thought there was no more for cover him to shed. Apparently, she was wrong.

“I have never-” she begins to address her amazement, but an unforeseen rush of thoughts makes her stop.

There is more than one “never” to be considered. She had never had any past lover do something like that for her before either. Bedelia imagines herself instantly dismissing anyone who tried. She held a tight leash on any fulfilment of her needs and controlled all its aspects, barely venturing outside the self-imposed lines. The realisation makes her avert her gaze, the weight of all the untried flavours transforming the soft haze in her mind into heavy rain clouds. Bedelia becomes suddenly aware of her restrained life. She dares to look up at Hannibal, the man who has never denied himself anything, wondering if he can read the regret in her eyes.

“I am certain your other lovers have also enjoyed this welcoming,” she says instead, feeling self-conscious of her insignificance in the spectrum of his life

Hannibal frowns, looking genuinely puzzled by her words.

“No other lover was worthwhile,” he responds, appearing equally bashful.

The gaze that meets hers is full of reverence, the sensation only intensified by his undressed state. His hand continue to stroke the skin of her feet with tenderness, bringing her back to the present moment. Bringing her back to them.

“Perhaps there is more tension that needs relieving?” he suggests after a moment with a not so subtle flicker in his eyes.

Bedelia smiles, feeling her mind easing with the premise of his words.

“In a moment,” she says, lifting the glass to her lips, as if her unfinished drink were behind the delay. But in truth, she wants to savour the view for a few minutes longer.

The view meant for her only.

“Of course,” Hannibal places her feet gently on the bed and stands up, walking towards the vanity to supposedly retrieve his own glass. Yet the slow steps and purposeful sway of his buttocks tell her he is more than aware of her true intention.

Bedelia’s eyes focus on his behind, fingers quivering as she longs to sink them into his flesh.

Hannibal takes his glass and empties it in one mouthful before making his way back to the bed. He lies down this time, propping himself on his arm and stretching his body with glee while his arousal reaches its full height, like a buffet ready for her to sample.

Bedelia bites down on her bottom lip, her restrain at breaking point. She places the glass on the ground and moves to pin her body against his, their lips pressing firmly together. Her skin tingles where it touches his, the heat of his body warming her in the most pleasant of ways, making the barrier of fabric unbearable. She longs to feel each speck of her skin against his. Hannibal’s fingers move to undo the zipper of her dress, sensing her most pressing needs perfectly, as always. Her moan of approval is stifled as she continues to kiss him with hunger and relish she has never felt before.

The burden of her regrets vanishes completely, no longer gnawing at her thoughts. She knows she was waiting for a feast worthy of her appetite.

**Author's Note:**

> It has been awhile, I have been struggling with inspiration, please send positive writing vibes my way as we all need more stories.  
> Thank you for reading! Let me know what you think. Stay safe everyone ♥


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